The Five Stages of Grief
by blank canvas of me
Summary: "For Annabeth to be happy? For her to return to normal? For everything to go back to the way that it was? It's not going to, Percy. And this is going to last for a long time. She's going through the five stages of grief. She's mourning for the loss of herself." Annabeth is tortured by Luke and returns to Camp a shell of the girl that she used to be. Mentions of PTSD. Set in BoTL.


**The Five Stages of Grief: **

**Set right before the Labyrinth but after The Titan's Curse**

* * *

**1.) Denial **

The bruises were a multitude of variety, colors that normally should not be on someone's skin. Especially hers. Her tan skin was replaced with a paleness as if she hadn't seen the sunlight in ten years. There were garish purple splotches, roughly the size of a fist, while others were more grayish, but still looked just as bad. And they were all over her. It was horrible. My stomach churned with guilt; as if ripping my insides open. I did save her, but she shouldn't have needed to be rescued in the first place. It was my fault. If I hadn't tried to prove myself better than Thalia- if I hadn't let my jealousy of the daughter of Zeus engulf me- Annabeth would be okay right now. I felt remorse- then I felt anger. Hot, boiling rage that spread through me, directed at the person who had done this to her. Luke. And it wasn't just the bruises. There were scars, too. Lines across her body, her wrists, like someone or something had dug it's nails into her, tearing and ripping at her flesh. Someone had clawed away at her, the gashes told the whole story. It was horrible, I could hardly bear to look at her. This wasn't Annabeth Chase- this was a tortured, manipulated, helpless girl who had almost died because of me. Despite her appearance, a smile was spread across her lips as she chucked a stone into the water. Her grey eyes were light and happy.

Annabeth caught my gaze, smirking. "See something you like, Seaweed Brain?" In normal circumstances, I knew a red blush would've spread across my cheeks, but I just couldn't. Her eyebrows furrowed as she noticed my serious face; she could read me like an open book. So why couldn't I read her? She sat up from her spot near the creek, the sound of rushing water filling my ears. Water always comforted me, but it had no use for this situation.

"Hey...are you okay?" Annabeth asked. This was wrong. So very wrong. Annabeth shouldn't be asking if my well-being was fine, not when...not when she looked like that. I'm not saying that she didn't look beautiful, she always did. But the picture of her agonized screams, stab marks all over her body, stripped of nearly all her clothes, her hair cut to her chin was permanently etched into my mind. My ears rang, and I felt my hand begin to tremble. Her concerned expression deepened, and she approached me quickly. I could see her ribs through her camp t-shirt. "Talk to me, Percy." She placed her hands on my shoulder, gently shaking me.

I shoved her hands away. "You shouldn't be the one comforting me. I-I should be there for you."

Annabeth's eyes widened, then she sighed. "Percy, how many times do I have to tell you this?

It wasn't your fault. And besides that, I'm okay. Really Percy, I am. Nothing some ambrosia couldn't fix."

Before I could lose the courage to do so, I ran my hand gently along her cheek, stopping at her scar. My fingers stroked the long, jagged line, and Annabeth's breath hitched. She let out a gasp shortly later, and I was startled by the effect I could have on her. "Did ambrosia fix this?"

Her lips twisted into a scowl, and she finally stepped away from my embrace. "It's just a scar, Percy. Stop blowing things out of proportion."

"Ha. Blowing things out of proportion, Annabeth? Is that what I'm doing? You were tortured. Time heals all wounds Annabeth, but the scars will still be there. Forever."

"Stop it. Please, stop it." More guilt hit me in waves as her voice cracked, and tears began to fill in her eyes. "Why can't you just leave it alone? You, Thalia, everyone. You all keep looking at me, waiting to stop me from killing myself or something! Why can't you stop staring at me like I'm some broken toy that needs to be fixed?"

"You're not some toy; that's the last thing I think you are. You're a human being- a demigod. But you are broken, Annabeth. Because of me."

She began to pound on my chest, more tears coming. "Just let it go, Percy! Why can't you just leave me alone?" More punches, but they were weak and depraved. I didn't try to fight her away, or stop her. Her wild hits didn't hurt. More water streamed down her cheeks, her breathing ragged. "I'm f-fine! I'm fine." Her knees buckled and she collapsed in a heap of hysterical sobs. I caught her before her body could even touch the ground. Wetness soaked the collar of my shirt, and I ran my hand through her short, choppy hair. As remorseful as her cries of pain made me feel, this was the right thing to do. She couldn't bottle up her emotions forever, covering it in a box full of lies. Her 'I'm fine' and 'I'm okay' words were the most consistent sounds that I heard come from her mouth. In a way, this reminded me when I held her after the sirens. Only this was different. This pain- it was enhanced. I didn't speak, just sat there quietly, his arms wrapped tightly around her in a hug, hoping to comfort her. Annabeth's frail body gently rocked back and forth, her cheeks stained with the endless stream of tears from her glossy, grey eyes, enduring the emotional pain that continued to engulf her.

"I'm okay," she whispered.

"I know."

"I'm okay."

"You're okay." She sniffled and nodded into the crook of my neck.

Annabeth Chase was far from okay.

. . .

**2.) Anger**

"I'm scared."

Those were two words that I had never heard come out of Thalia's mouth. She could probably hear my mouth dropping open in shock. Besides heights, (which she never truly admitted she was afraid of) what did the strong, brave daughter of Zeus have to be petrified of. My cousin wrapped her legs up to her chest, resting her chin on her knees.

"What are you scared of?"

"Nothing," she said in a hoarse, raspy whisper. "I'm scared of nothing. But I'm scared for someone."

It all clicked in my mind, and I tensed, fiddling with my fingers, unsure of what to say to her. "She'll be okay. Annabeth's a fighter. She'll make it through this." When she looked back at me, her eyes were rimmed in red, and her cheeks had tear stains. Thalia had never cried. Well, she never showed weakness in front of anyone. It unsettled me. Her electric blue eyes were dark with disbelief and worry beyond belief.

"Will she Percy? Will Annabeth be 'okay?' Did you think she was 'okay' when you saw her bloody, thin, nearly lifeless body? Did you think she was 'okay' when she woke the entire camp with her night terrors? Do you think she's okay?"

"No," I admitted, turning my head and facing the direction of the beach partially to check on Annabeth once more. The salty wind was brushing through her short curls, the waves splashing her toes and legs. And also so Thalia wouldn't see the tears that began to fill up in my green eyes. I swiped them away quickly, but I knew Thalia had seen my hand motions. After I collected myself, I turned back to the raven-haired girl.

"But we have to keep telling ourselves that she'll be okay. We have to be patient, and hope that she will get better. That's the only way we'll make it through this."

She ignored my last comment, but I could tell my words were swirling around in her head. "I'm going to kill him." It didn't take a genius to figure out who she was talking about. It surprised me. I always had assumed that Thalia and Luke were...close.

I gave her a bittersweet smile. "We'll flip a coin for that."

"Deal." She stood up and stretched, and I could hear her sore joints popping. "I'm going to get some food for Annabeth. You going to be okay watching her by yourself?" I nodded curtly. Chiron had given us permission to miss out on meals. Annabeth wasn't ready to face everyone yet. Every time she bumped into someone that she knew- Katie, Travis, Connor, even Malcolm- she would get this distant look in her eyes and sprint the other way. She slept in the big house and ate her meals with me and Thalia. We were the only two people who she let in. Not Grover or Malcolm. Just us.

"Oh, and Percy?" Her blue eyes were dark, but the faintest of smiles touched her lips. "If anyone is going to fix Annabeth, it's going to be you."

I watched as my cousin jogged away, leaving me to my own confused thoughts. I shut my eyes for a moment, letting the sun inhale me, listening to the waves crashing onto the shore and seagulls squawking in the distance. I hadn't told my mom about what happened to her, or about Annabeth's condition quite yet. I didn't tell anyone. Because if I admitted it, then it would be true. I could hear Annabeth's footsteps increasing, and I knew she walking towards me.

"Percy?"

"Hm?"

"Where's Thalia?"

"Getting you lunch," I exclaimed opening one of my eyes. My eyebrows furrowed as I noticed something red seeping through her plaid shirt and streaming down her wrist. I nearly puked my breakfast up. She tried to pull her wrist away, but it was too late. I had already seen it.

Her eyes were wide. "_Di Immortales." _

I yelled something, grabbing her wrist and pulling bandages away from her arm, revealing more and more cuts. Some were pink, signaling that they were fresh. I knew they couldn't have come from Luke-Kronos. "What the Hades is this, Annabeth?"

Her bottom lip quivered. "I-I Percy-"

"You cut yourself? When did this happen?"

She swallowed, ignoring my last questions. She avoided my gaze, looking to the floor. "I saw a shell and I thought maybe I would feel better mentally if I-"

"No," I shook my head, "you didn't. You couldn't have. You're alive. You're breathing. You're beautiful. You're okay. You didn't. No, no, no, no, no." The disbelief quickly turned to sharp, obtuse anger."What is wrong with you?" Annabeth's grey eyes widened in surprise, as if she wasn't expecting me to be enraged. "Did you ever stop to think how I would feel if you-" I felt my jaw harden. "Don't you ever do that again. Understand me?" She looked frozen, petrified by my reaction. How did she expect me to react? "Understand me?" Mutely, she nodded. "Because so help me if you do succeed in killing yourself, I will go to the underworld myself and drag your ass back up here!"

She hung her head in shame. "I'm so sorry, Percy-"

"No. You're not. You're just sorry that you got caught."

"What's going on here?" Thalia stumbled over rocks and sand, a tray clasped tightly in her hands. Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion and puzzlement.

"Ask her," I hissed before storming away. I didn't look back once.

. . .

Annabeth's mood went to self-pitying to bitter almost overnight. Her skin was beginning to look sun-kissed, and her blonde hair was beginning to shine and curl. Her weight got better, and the bruises were beginning to change from a dark blue to a faded yellow. But despite her healthy appearance, her mood had shifted for the worst. She snapped at everyone, a permanent scowled etched across her lips.

"Move," she sneered at Clarisse. Not a smart decision to snap at the daughter of the God of war, especially when she was holding an electric spear. Her lips pursed together tightly, and I could tell she was restraining from doing something that she'd regret. "Move, Clarisse." Her cheeks turned red, and she merely stepped aside, clenching her jaw and pinching her face like she smelled something bad. Annabeth walked past her, purposely bumping roughly into her shoulder.

I stood next to Clarisse, watching her walk away. "Impressive. Especially from you."

"Shut up, Prissy. You seriously have no idea how hard it was not to explode."

"But you didn't," I pointed out. "Thank you for that. Annabeth, she's-"

"-Screwed up."

I glared at her. "She's not 'screwed up'. She just needs...needs some time."

"Whatever. You might not like this version of Annabeth, but take it from me, Jackson, being angry is better than being depressed. Ares is my father; I feel anger and rage a lot. It gives you determination and the will to do something. The will to be bitter to everyone around you. Being sad takes away that will. You just...can't find anything to live for. Anger is better. Not very much better, but better." I fell silent, watching Clarisse incredulously. She glared back. "Don't think I care as much as you think I do. Because I don't."

"Uh-huh."

"Sea spawn," she sneered, storming past me.

Thalia came over from her as Clarisse stalked away, eyeing me. "Is anyone watching Annabeth?"

"Grover and Juniper are."

The relief was evident on her face. "Oh. Good." She paused again, running a hand through her choppy, spiked hair. "You know, I think what Clarisse said was true. It is better to be angry."

"I don't agree. I just want-" I found myself at a loss for words. "I just want-"

"For Annabeth to be happy? For her to return to normal? For everything to go back to the way that it was?" I nodded, stuffing my hands in my pockets and avoiding her lecturing gaze. "It's not going to, Percy. And this is going to last for a long time. She's going through the stages of grief."

"But Annabeth isn't grieving," I claimed, my expression a mask of confusion. "No one died."

"Yes, she is. She's mourning for the loss of herself. I think she lost herself when those monsters did what they did to her. The first stage is isolation and denial. Remember how Annabeth kept saying that she was 'okay'? Remember how she just wanted to be left alone? Well, she's moved on from that stage. Now she's angry."

"You know a lot about loss, don't you?" For a brief moment, I saw a flash of pain in her eyes. Pain. So much pain, like fire dancing in her electric blue eyes.

"Yes. I do." She swallowed. "But I never received closure. I'm still stuck in grief, going over the stages over and over at different times. He's gone- but he's everywhere."

I scrunched my eyebrows together and tipped my head to the side in puzzlement. "He...?"

She shook her head, dismissing the topic. "Nothing." Her walls had come up again. "Forget about it, Percy." I didn't want to, but I didn't want to pry either. So I settled for being silent. I knew she couldn't be talking about Luke because she despised him now, so who could 'he' be? Who did she lose? "Have you told your mom what happened?"

I nodded, leaning against the Zeus cabin. "She didn't take it...well. I mean, she was extremely worried when Annabeth was first kidnapped. But no one- including her- could've expected what they've been doing to her all this time."

"Your mom loves Annabeth like a daughter, Percy. Of course she wouldn't take this lightly. What did she say?"

"It scared me, Thals. She didn't say _anything_. No advice for what to do. She just said to do whatever Annabeth asked of me. My mom always knows what to say and what to do."

"I doubt she's known someone who was tortured. I mean, what do you do?"

I shook my head. "I still don't know. I don't think I ever will." I felt my eyes fogging with tears, and coughed, desperate to change the subject. "So...what is the third stage?"

Thalia's eyes met mine, "After the fires of anger have been blow out, the next stage is a desperate round of bargaining."

"Bargaining? Like, in business?"

She smirked in amusement, rolling her eyes at my obtuse question. "Not like that, Kelp Head. Bargaining in grief is basically seeking ways to avoid having the bad thing happen. Like saying that 'what if I did this to bring back someone else'. Bargaining is thus a vain expression of hope that the bad news is reversible."

"You seem to know a lot about this stuff."

She punched my shoulder, taking that as an insult. I rubbed my sore arm, remembering how good of a sucker punch she truly had, and then re-living it. "I was a tree, idiot. All I could do was think and watch the world pass by me. And let's just say that I had a lot of things to think about in that time. Now, I'm going to find Annabeth. It's almost dinner and I don't want her skipping meals. Although you should stop avoiding her, Percy."

"I'm not avoiding her!" I defended, feeling a snippet of anger flourish through me. How could she accuse me of not being with my best friend when she was going through everything that she was? I already blamed myself for what happened. It was my fault. I could've jumped off the cliff, despite Artemis' defiance. Maybe then I could've saved her. Maybe then I could've helped her. "She doesn't want to see me."

"Probably because you make her feel better. Happier. And right now? She's just looking for someone to blame."

. . .

**3.) Bargaining**

Dinner's were easier and harder at the same time. Sometimes Annabeth wouldn't speak because she would be too busy eating, and filling herself up with food. And on a more usual occurrence, the latter, she would simply shove her food away and argue with anyone who said otherwise. Grover had gone to Mr. D to see if there was anything he could do about Annabeth's behavior, just like how he healed Chris after going mad in the Labyrinth. He said he couldn't do anything about it- which made me want to punch him- because Annabeth isn't ill in the mind. Scarred with memories, sure, but not mad. It was a normal human reaction to what had happened, and because of this he couldn't do anything. Chiron was still trying to convince him to do something, but personally, I didn't have much faith in the guy, especially since the only reason he let me go after Annabeth because he hoped that I would die. That wasn't what happened. Zoe died, Bianca died, Nico's gone, and we rescued Artemis from her burden underneath the sky, but Annabeth wasn't there. Thalia had fought Luke and reflexively kicked him off a cliff when he tried to reach for her weapon. He was most-likely dead until Poseidon told me that Luke was still alive. We rescued Annabeth a few months later, but by then...

"Why did this happen to me?" Annabeth murmured to herself, staring coldly at the sandwich resting in front of her.

"What?"

"Why did this have to happen to me, Percy?" Her grey eyes flickered to mine, and I stared away, not liking the look in her eyes. Partially because of the guilt. It was my fault. She seemed to sense my thoughts, stiffening beside me. "It wasn't your fault, Percy. So stop feeling so guilty. Because you being guilty makes me feel guilty. You're my best friend, Seaweed Brain. You wouldn't do anything to hurt me, even if you don't believe it yourself."

"I know. I just can't help it. If I did something else when we were trying to save Bianca and Nico, Luke wouldn't have captured you."

"Yeah," she said softly. "I know. But you didn't tie me up and hand me over to Luke. It was my fault for being so careless, but it wasn't my fault that he tortured me. It wasn't your fault, either. It was Kronos'."

I felt angry as she opened her water bottle, my hand balling into a fist. "_What_?"

Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at me, her bottom lip twitching downward. "What do you mean?"

"You meant to say it was Luke's fault, right?"

She shook her head, taking a drink from the bottle. "No. Kronos had some sort of power over him. He was making Luke do bad things to me. Luke would never do something like that to me..."

"Are you kidding me?" My voice raised and everyone in the mess hall turned to look at me, but I was too enraged to take them into consideration. "After all that's happened? After all that Luke did to you?"

"Percy," her breathing was shaky, like she was trying to not to get angry herself. "I know it's hard to accept, but Luke didn't do those things to me."

"If Luke really loved you like you think he does," I hissed, "then he wouldn't have done those things to you in the first place! He doesn't love you, Annabeth." _But I do._ "He _tortured you!_"

We were both standing now, both our eyes burning. Just as my head lifted ajar, I caught the image on a her hand coming towards me. I could've blocked it, but I didn't. She slapped me, and then I remembered what an arm she had. The left side of my face was stinging but not as harsh as the prospect that came from the slap. I couldn't look at her, so I made my eyes stare out into the crowd.

Everyone was silent, watching with wide eyes.

Mr. D finally cleared his throat, "Come with me to the big house, Annabelle and Peter."

He beckoned us with his hand, and Annabeth sneered at me, pushing past. I watched her storm ahead of me until she nearly matched Mr. D's pace, and only then did I rub my sore cheek and jaw.

. . .

"Things got out of hand today. No, this is the fifth time that things have gotten out of hand between you two." I couldn't bring myself to meet Chiron's eyes, and I was sure Annabeth couldn't either. "Regardless of the situation, I expect both of you to act civil. You are both going to do dish duty until you can work things out."

"Chiron-" I protested.

"I am aware of the situation, Percy," he said tensely. "I believe everyone heard what the fight was about. Please don't make me lose my temper." I had never heard Chiron lose his temper, and I knew that was something that I didn't want to see. He was always so cool and collected. He turned to Annabeth, "and child, I know what you're going through is hard. You're not the only Demigod in which this is happened to. Remember Chris? He got through mental illness caused from the Labyrinth. I'm sure you can get through this; stay strong." She nodded, her gaze flickering to me once. "But that doesn't mean you can pick fights and hit people to let go of whatever you're feeling. Please find a...better way to deal with your emotions." More mute nodding. "You may leave now, Annabeth."

She looked relieved as he said those words, climbing from her seat and sending me one last look before she left. Her eyes were regretful, and she almost looked...guilty?

"And Percy," he turned to face me, his hands on his temples. "I understand how difficult this must be for you. Just have a little more patience with her. Annabeth's old personality will return, but it will take quite some time."

"How long?" I asked. "How long will it take to get our Annabeth back?"

His eyes turned grave and his lips twitched even more downward. "I do not know, Percy. They say that time heals all the wounds, but what about the scars left over?" Chiron sighed, then gestured towards the doorway with his hand. "Have a good night, Percy."

. . .

I found Annabeth waiting for me outside, her gaze flickering upward to my approaching figure. "I'm sorry," she said. "For arguing with you. And for slapping you." I forced a smile at the stranger in front of me, accepting her apology. She looked like Annabeth; tan skin, blonde curls, grey eyes. She smelled like Annabeth; her lemon shampoo. But she was different. There were differences. I was taller for once. Before she had been taken, Annabeth had been the taller one. She was different. No, that was an understatement. She was broken. Luke broke her. It was my fault. I had searched and searched for her, but to no avail. For almost a year, I looked. And the pathetic thing? I didn't find her. Luke simply grew bored with torturing her, grew fed-up with the way she didn't tell him anything, and merely dropped her off at the Camp Border. Argus has found her. She was bloody and...and...

"It's okay. I'm sorry for yelling at you."

She stuffed her hands in her pockets, sitting on the stairway. I followed her example, sitting close beside her. Her grey eyes were dark as she stared up at the stars above. "Sometimes I think if I do something then I could get myself back. Like an eye for an eye. Maybe if I train as hard as I can I can forget about what happened."

Bargaining, I realized. Just like Thalia said.

"But you can't."

She closed her eyes partially, and before I could lose all my confidence I grabbed her hand and held it in my own.

She didn't pull away. Instead, she squeezed it back.

"If I could've taken your place I would've."

"Don't say things like that, Percy. You need to stop feeling so guilty. It wasn't your fault."

"But maybe if I would've..."

"You would've what, Percy?" She sounded angry. Annabeth heaved a deep breath, tilting her head away from me. It was a while before she spoke again, and this time it was in a quiet voice. "Can we just forget about it? The entire thing?" Her grey eyes were filled with such hope and desperation I couldn't say no. I wanted to say no; wanted to tell her that forgetting about things didn't mean that it would fix the problem. It would lessen the pain, but it would never truly be fixed. "Can we just pretend like I wasn't kidnapped for the past few months?"

"Annabeth-"

"Please, Seaweed Brain? Please?" She was practically begging, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Okay, Wise Girl," I said. "Okay." Annabeth smiled at me, looking relieved. She leaned her head on my shoulder, and I rested my chin on top of her curls. I wondered when all this touching had happened. We never used to hug, to lean on each other, but now we were finding time throughout each day to make small touches. A brush to the hand while walking past each other. Soft shoulder bumps. Heads on shoulders.

I prayed to whatever God that was listening to make things get better.

. . .

**4.) Depression:**

Obviously no Gods listened or cared. Things didn't get better. They got far from it; they got worse. Annabeth's anger was gone, but it was replaced with sadness; depression. She stayed in her cabin for the entire day, just laying there, her eyes staring off into space. Annabeth didn't do anything productive. The only thing she did do was get thinner. Her eyes darkened, her tan skin began to pale. She stopped...caring. Silena, daughter of Aphrodite, stopped by there every day with chocolates. Bon-bons and such. I doubted Annabeth ate any, but at least she tolerated Silena's presence.

She didn't want me to visit her. Or Thalia. Or Grover.

Just Silena.

It hurt. More than I would've thought. I wasn't jealous, just confused. Why would she want Silena to visit her instead of her best friend? Wasn't I her best friend?

Thalia told me that Silena was probably using hints of Charm-Speak in her voice to help soothe her.

But maybe it was because she didn't want us to see her in such sadness. I didn't want to see her like that, either, but she was my best friend and I wasn't going to leave her anytime soon. Grover approached me one day at the beach, his hooves clomping to meet me. His face was slack; his brow furrowed - eyes darting about in concern as if he were searching for a place to hide.

"Hey, G-man."

He sounded concerned. "Hey, Perce. Are you okay? Your emotions are all screwy. More so than usual."

I laughed bitterly, Annabeth's numb features flashing through my mind. "I wonder why."

He frowned at me, his bottom lip twitching downward. "I'm being serious, Percy."

"So am I," I exclaimed, pausing. "How's Annabeth?"

"Thalia managed to get some food in her today. She's getting worse, though. At least when she was angry it gave her something to do. Now she's just wallowing in all that pain...It's horrible." My stomach churned and I fought the urge to revolt. Grover's eyes narrowed in on me, frowning even more so. "As worried as I am about Annie, I'm also concerned about you. Your emotions...You're feeling guilty?"

I kicked a rock to the side, my hand balling into a frustrated fist. "It's my fault, Grover. It's my fault that she got kidnapped."

"Percy..."

"No. Stop making excuses for me. If I had just waited for Thalia and the rest of you, Annabeth wouldn't have tackled Dr. Thorn to save us! She wouldn't have gotten taken! She wouldn't have gotten tortured. It's my fault. And to make matters worse, I just keep screwing up!" This time I picked up a rock and threw it outward into the crashing waves out of anger. The water churned faster, and the waves nearly reached us. I knew that wasn't my father. It was me. The waves kept getting higher and higher, angrier and angrier. I didn't know how to stop it; I didn't know how to control my guilt and anger and grief. "Nico's gone! Bianca's dead! Zoe's dead! Luke's alive and plotting to kill me!"

Grover didn't say anything, and he didn't need to. One look in his eyes told me everything. I could see the worry in his eyes as clearly as if he was speaking his thoughts and emotions out loud. "I'm sorry, Percy. But you need to stop feeling so guilty and put your priorities on Annabeth."

"She won't see me! I've tried to get in. I didn't ask for this, Grover. I didn't ask for my best friend to get tortured." Tears were blurring in my vision, and he placed a hand on my back in comfort. "Why does it always have to be my fault? It's Luke's fault- not mine! Why can't she see that?"

"Show her."

"I've already tried!"

"Then try harder. You can do this, Perce. We've-_you've _survived countless of prophecies foreshadowing your intimate death."

"Only because I had Annabeth by my side."

"And you still do."

"Do I?"

"Yes," Grover said firmly, nodding in determination. "Yes you do. She's still in there, Percy. You have to break her out of that sorrow that she's carrying herself around in."

I opened my mouth to say something more, but Beckendorf interrupted us. "Grover, Percy," he nodded curtly towards the both of us. "There's been news. Chris Rodriguez- Luke- Attack- Labyrinth." I only heard snippets of his conversation, but enough to put the pieces together. Luke. He was back. Hot, determined anger filled me. I was going to kill him in a slow, painful death. He didn't deserve a quick one-

"Percy?" Grover bleated, his brown eyes wide with shock, void with fear. "Why are you- why are you so...Angry?"

"I'm not!" I snapped, my voice raising an octave higher. Grover froze, flinching at my tone. I sighed, looking briefly at the sun, waiting for myself to calm down before I opened my mouth open to reassure him: "Sorry, G-man. Let's just get to the meeting."

He smiled back, but for once his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

**. . . **

**5.) Closure**

Annabeth was sitting there, her locks of curls pressing around her cheeks. A frown was on her expression, seemingly permanent. There seemed to be an aura of grey around her. It was a mist that wouldn't rise. A state of depression that she couldn't see herself through. She looked like death, but she didn't seem to even care anymore.

I'm going to be blunt about this- it hurt. Seeing my best friend like this, it hurt.

I sat in the meeting room, trying to draw my eyes away from her skinny form.

"Annabeth, my child," Chiron said in a soft tone. "If you do not feel like you're up to this, you can leave." Her eyes seemed to be far away. Chiron repeated, "Annabeth?"

She flinched in surprise, looking around the room, almost realizing that we had all just been watching her. Annabeth shook her head in response, clearing her hoarse throat. "No. I'm fine. Please continue."

She was trying to be strong, but I could see right through her. And I knew everyone else could.

Clarisse spoke up, her voice hesitant. Which was a shock, because the Daughter of Ares was never hesitant. "He's right, girly. If you think you can't handle this, I'd be happy to take you back to your cabin."_I'd be happy to." _ That's not something you hear every day from a child of Ares, especially not from Clarisse La Rue.

"Thank you, Clarisse," Annabeth exclaimed slowly, frustration swimming in the multiple shades of grey that was her eyes. "I appreciate it. But if this is about Luke, then I should hear it."

I swallowed, my hands clenching into tight fists underneath the table. I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up, everyone's eyes flashing to me. "You," I gritted out, pointing to Annabeth. She looked surprised. "Me. Outside now." Annabeth slowly slid her chair back, realization dawning on her face. Chiron watched me with worried eyes as we both stormed out. As soon as we left, I grabbed onto Annabeth's wrist and dragged her closer to the woods, despite her protests and struggles.

"What, Percy?" She demanded, her voice raw.

"What? Don't what me! I should be whatting you!"

She rolled her eyes. "That sentence didn't make any sense."

"You don't make any sense!" I exploded finally. All the emotions that I had been feeling for the last few weeks came rushing from me, in heaps of anger and confusion. "What happened to you, Annabeth? What happened to the girl who used to be my best friend? You're all muddled up, like a cross-word puzzle that I finally seem to figure out, but then the answer changes! I'm trying to _help you_, but you're not letting me in!"

Her bottom lip quivered, and for a moment I was afraid she would cry, but instead she got enraged. Her expression contorted from numbness to hot, anger, filled with betrayal. I could've drank off her eyes for days. For once, she looked expressive, not like a doll that was being controlled by a puppet master. "Maybe," she stated, poking me sharply in the chest. "It's because I don't want my best friend seeing me like this! Do you think I _enjoy_ putting you through all this? Do you think I like when I get a PTSD panic attack and you're there to watch? You all make me feel like some kind of burden! You all make me feel weak as if I can't take care of myself!"

"Because you can't! It's not that hard to ask for help!"

"It is for me!" She shouted, ripping at the ends of her grey hairs in frustration. "Don't you remember what my fatal flaw is? Pride? You think I don't know that Luke did this to me, Jackson? Because _I do_. I have to live with that every day. I have to live with that you were right, and I was wrong. I have to live with all the campers treating me like I belong in some kind of pysch ward! The only person I can have a decent conversation with is probably the freakin' Oracle!"

"I-I," I dropped my gaze from her burning gaze, stuttering and ashamed. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

"No," her voice broke. "You didn't." Her eyes grew misty. She hugged her knees tighter as a bitter gust lashed against her face. She tried not to, I could tell from the way her jaw jut out, but she did, but one perfectly round drop edged down her numb cheek. Burying her head in her hands out of shame and sorrow, more salty droplets seeped from her eyes. She looked weak, the one thing she did not want to look. I didn't recognize that until now. I sank to the ground next to her, awkwardly patting her shoulder. _Man up, Jackson_, my thoughts hissed. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling my best friend closer to my chest. When she finished she looked up at me with brighter eyes. "I don't want to cry anymore, Percy. I know that I can never go back. To me, in my mind, it'll always be before I was tortured and after. I'm a different person now. I'll never be the same Annabeth you once knew. That Annabeth died a long time ago. Let her go."

I took a deep breath, wiping away a tear that spilled over my cheek. "Okay."

"And in return," she sucked in a breath, her grey eyes blurry. "I'll let go of what happened to me. I'll move on, as best as I can."

"Yeah," I said quietly, smiling at her. "I'd like that."

And she smiled back.

* * *

**A/N: I know, I know, this story was really crappy. I wrote this a long time ago and found it while I was looking through my documents. So I decided to post it. Yay! I know some parts are rushed, or maybe they just feel rushed to me, because I cut back on detail in this fic. I feel like I've been using way too much description and not enough dialogue. So, let me know what you think. I know they were OOC some parts, but given the situation, wouldn't you expect them to be? R&R, even if it's a flame. **


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